#since in my head it's a men strike which is a vertical downwards strike on the head

[dasnercaret]

1, 6, 9, 22 for the ask game? :3

1. siffrin x2 but also while i'm here loop is fantastic too, big fan of the loop

6. hey, i'm you, i failed. don't be me. do better. please

9. i would wish for all mosquitoes to be deleted from existence forever (dodges the question again /silly)

22. oh this one's really interesting - i think i'd probably be a paper type mainly! with a few scissors attacks though, as a treat. i think i'd probably have pretty straightforward names (i tend to be a fairly straightforward person), and they'd be named something along the lines of

generic paper attack called 'Color Burst', deals decent paper damage to one enemy

generic scissors attack called 'Ki-ken-tai-ichi', deals big scissors damage to one enemy with a very high crit chance

aoe paper attack called "Song and Strike," deals paper damage to all enemies with a chance of debuffing them (slowing them down).

also i would have a katana. i make the rules and i say i have a katana

[benevolentcalamity]

In the cool breeze, the red roses that surround you sway, your hair matching their rhythm as they do. Hands folded neatly upon your lap, you keep your head bowed as the tree above you sways and sings in its own earthly language.

Above you is a canopy of twinkling stars, the moonlight reflecting off of your hair, your skin, your dress... It creates a scene you’re certain you’d only see in a museum; painted by a true master of the arts. Here you wait, not just to be painted, but to be confronted by a partner, under this very tree, among these very roses. It is only then that you will be able to truly complete this breathtaking scene: when there is two centerfolds within this.

A soft sound of footsteps sounds behind you, and you lift your head very slowly, one hand moving to touch the rapier blade resting upon your hip. Rising to your feet, you turn halfway, tilting your head to see who approaches, lifting your red-painted lips in a smirk as you meet their eyes.

Standing near you now is a man, tall and fair, with a white ponytail dancing in the breeze, crimson eyes gazing straight at you through a back mask under a matching hat. He does not conceal his body even with a coat, and you pay it no mind even as one of his gloved hands moves to touch his own sword.

He is one who has chased you ever since you had been caught up in this fight alongside him. The two of you were blades of different colors, black and red, destined to fight no matter the circumstance. That is the nature of who you are, who you must be until the war between fighters like yourselves has passed. You dream of no such day, not even imagine it, but the very notion has a strange, unfamiliar taste on your tongue.

“Your blade is rather impressive,” He pipes up, giving you a nod. “Where was it made?”

You turn to him fully. “Verona.”

Stepping towards him only once, you tilt your head back slightly. “Who is it that made you your steel?”

He matches your movement. “This is Elsinore steel.”

“You lie!” You hiss, correcting your position. When he shakes his head and turns the blade for you to see the emblem engraved in it, however, all you do is recollect your smirk. “Mm hm.”

Stepping through the roses, you roll your shoulders back. “A sword, however, is a sword in function regardless of its owner, or how it gleams in the sunlight.” Your dress billows about your ankles, the slit not giving even once. “I do hope you saved your energy for this moment. It’d be a shame if you did not... you’d never last five minutes. However, in terms of losing your wind from my knights... I must say, you could do much worse.”

His hand moves to his chest, and he bows to match your curtsy. “We shall see.”

Drawing your sword, you put one leg behind the other, kneel slightly, hold one arm up, and furrow your brows in concentration. “En garde, monseuir noir!”

With his own sword drawn, you charge at each other, the harsh ‘CLANG!’ of your blades the signification of your battle’s beginning. Casting mercy out the window, you step back to twist and give him another hit, met with a vertical parry. Blowing some of your hair away from your face, you move forward, forcing him to back away from you as you continuously strike; an overwhelm strategy meant to intimidate and manipulate. Only one of many ways you’ve bested your opponents.

Beneath your shoes, the flowers bend and bow, laying down to be suitable ground for your fight against the knave. With many clashes and parries you flit about the fields, sometimes rolling and flipping to avoid strikes from the other. This isn’t just to dodge, though - it’s also simply to be flashy. Red lines appear on both faces, even the occasional one on the body resulting in a tear in your clothes.

At last, however, you land a clean slice into his leg, bringing him to cry out. He wobbles in his step, eventually falling down at your feet, clutching the injured flesh. Staring upon him, you adjust the flower in your hair, rescuing freed strands.

Then he moves, adjusting to properly grip his sword, giving you a small window of time to jump as he slashes, stumbling back as he gathers the strength to stand. Eyebrows raised, you stare in awe as he straightens his stance, giving you a smirk of his own. One that declares that he will not go down as easily as you will have predicted.

Growling, you charge, clashing swords with him once again. As though he had not been injured at all, he parries and strikes back with strength you’ve never faced before. Blades cross, and you push with all your might whilst meeting his ruby eyes. For a moment, you’re able to speak, and you do.

“For mocking you earlier...” You begin. “... I extend my apologies.”

He nods, his white hair, now loose from their previous tie, bouncing slightly with the movement. “Accepted.”

Breaking from the contact, the two of you continue to clash, though as the moon slowly begins to move downwards in the distance you find yourselves exhausted.

From a twist in your step to a final drive to defeat him, you find yourself only slicing away his sleeve, and cold metal is driven into your body. With a pained howl, you nearly collapse, your sword falling from your hand, flower releasing your hair as it too descends. Blood joins the red of your dress, your white gloves stained with the color as you take in your defeat, staring down with alarm.

“That sword... truly is... one of Elsinore...” You whisper, falling to your knees, then finally all the way down. As you grow weak, you stare up at the knave, narrowing your eyes into slits. “... Knave... Who are you...?”

He kneels, staring down at you and brushing some of your hair out of your face. Tenderly, as though he’d break you even further.

“I am Zorro,” He responds, moving to place his arms below your knees, collecting your sword as he lifts you into his arms. “My fair lady, it has been an honor to be your opponent. But, this fight is over.”

With this, you close your eyes, going limp as he carries you off the battleground, away from the place where you tried and failed to conquer him.

“And cut!” A voice shouts. “Perfect, you two - no need for a retake!”

Grinning from ear to ear, you let out a relieved breath as Zen puts you down, giving you a big smile in praise as you both bounce over to get a bottle of water from the large cooler.

“Cheers, babe,” He chirps, “clinking” his bottle with yours before you simultaneously swig from them.

Zen has a habit of calling you and the other girls in this business ‘babe’ or ‘sweetheart’. It’s very endearing, quite honestly, and you’re not sure if you could get by this without hearing him say that; without his support. Being an actress wouldn’t be as enjoyable without him. To put it simply, you feel very at ease with him, like you could confide in him about anything and he’d sweetly listen as though he had the answer to any of your problems.

“What did they say our characters’ relationship would be again? Enemies to allies to lovers? That’s interesting,” You bring up, to which he nods.

“I’m excited. Those love scenes will be your first, right? You’ve been a side-character quite a bit, and now that you’re in the spotlight you’ll need to pay extra attention. If you’d like, I could help you practice for them,” He playfully flirts. You smile.

“I’ll have to take you up on it. You seem like a good teacher, Zen,” You reply.

He chuckles, putting an arm around you to hug you. “I’m always happy to help such a sweet lady. In the meantime, we’ll all need to get prepared and then get some rest, since that concludes filming for tonight.”

“Yea,” You nod, snuggling into him a bit. His oil slicked chest feels nice against your cheek. “Zen, I said it before and I’ll say it again: I’m so happy we’re working together. It’s quite the honor, being a lead alongside you.”

He lifts a hand to scratch behind his head before putting it back around your shoulders. “You’re too sweet. Someone so brilliant as myself deserves only to share the stage with the best - and you’re no exception. We’re honored to be with each other.” His narcissism is always an oddity, but he’s definitely not enough of a narcissist to be a complete jerk - that much is obvious.

“Say, would you like to visit my apartment? You always seem to go off alone, and it’d be good for you to be in someone’s company,” He offers. “And we can practice love scenes, if you’d like. If not, we can watch some movies together.”

You give him a big smile. “I’d be honored to, Zen.” And you’re not lying. As established before, you feel close to him - enough to where you can trust him to be alone with you. This isn’t something other men have - not to say you hate them - and so you find it your duty to keep open to it.

“Wonderful!”

[d-noona]

MAKE OVER

Chapter 11: In love?

Jung Hoseok x Reader

Reader as Kang Hyeonji

SUMMARY: When Kang Hyeonji transformed herself into a striking redhead, the entire male population of Seoul stood up and took notice. But her make over was for Jung Hoseok’s benefit alone. He began to show interest in the new look but not in the way she wanted. Suddenly he was over-protective, perhaps a little jealous. It seemed that the idea of having a relationship with her couldn’t be further from his mind. The girl however wants more. So it was time for an ultimatum. If Hoseok didn’t want Hyeonji to lose her virginity to another admirer, he had no option but to make love to her himself.

Hoseok's apartment was on the thirty second floor. It was expensive, spacious, modern. And practically empty. "I have ordered furniture but it has not arrived yet" he said as he ushered Hyeonji across a huge expanse of pale blue carpet. "But don't worry. I did manage to buy a bed before I moved in. I had them send one of the floor stock, complete with bed linen."

Hyeonji's heart leapt. A brand new bed, with virgin sheets, waiting for her and Hoseok. No bad vibes. No memories. No comparisons.

He led her into a huge master bedroom dominated by an equally huge bed with dark blue and maroon bedding. The large double-glazed window which stretched across behind it was covered with cream vertical blinds but no curtains. A door to the left led off to what she presumed was an en-suit bathroom. "So what do you think?" He said as he shrugged out of his dinner jacket and reefed off his black bow-tie.

Hyeonji tried not to stare when he began unbuttoning his shirt. She kept telling herself it wouldn't be the first time she'd seen Hoseok naked to the waist. He alwayd mowed his mother's lawn like that in the summer. But this was different.

"I think we have all the essentials, under the circunstances," she said, her crisp tone belying the thickening in her throat. "A bed. A bathroom. And us." Hoseok laughed while he yanked the shirt tails out from the waist band of his trousers. "I don't know if I entirely approve of Moving-On-Hyeonji, but I won't deny you have me totally intrigued."

"I would prefer turned on to intrigued," she quipped, determined not to revert to the mouse she'd once been. Where had that got her? Certainly not into Hoseok's bedroom with Hoseok undressing in front of her!

"That goes without saying," he said, and stripped off the shirt. Hyeonji swallowed. "Does it? I've never turned you on before..." she locked eyes with his and by sheer force of will kept hers steady. She would not have been human if her earlier nerved hadn't returned. This was unknown territory, after all - but she was damned if she was going to show them.

"Shall I undress as well?" She asked, her hands going behind her back in search of the bow which anchored the laces. She could not find the ends and screwed her head around over her shoulder in vain attempt to locate the wretched things. Hoseok materialized behind her. "Let me," he said softly, and removed her shaking hands. "I've been wanting to do this all night..."

Hyeonji gasped when he bent to press tender lips to the nape of her neck, at the same time obviously pulling the right thread, for the restricting laces suddenly gave way. A tremor raced through her as he eased the narrow silk straps towards the edge of her shoulders, kissing her neck all the while. Another inch or two and the whole dress would fall from her body, slithering down to the floor to leave her near naked to his eyes, and to his touch.

Her heart turned over at the thought, then quickened. To have Hoseok touch her bare breasts...His hands moved outwards and the dress slithered downwards. Hyeonji gasped, then held her breath. It felt an eternity before his hands moved again. And when they did she moaned her frustration at his lack of speed. They slid slowly up and down her goose-bumped arms before finally taking her arms and winding them around behind him.

"Yes," he said thickly when she clasped together at the back of his waist, effectively imprisoning herself against him. Her mouth dried at the feel of his bare chest pressing up againsts her own bare back. Her heart thudded heavily behind her ribs, her naked breasts jutting out impatiently for his touch. They seemed to swell with each pressing moment, their eager tips stretching out and upward in silent yearning. Something else was swelling as well, making its presence felt against the cushioning curves her bottom. Heyonji had never seen, let alone felt, an erect male before. She knew the theory, but somehow the reality felt different from her virginal imaginings.

Bigger. Harder. And with a mind of itsown. Her own mind reeled at the inevitability of its final resting place tonight.

Dear God... she thought.

Hoseok's hands grazing down over her breasts brought her back to the present, thrusting any thought of pain to the back of her mind. Pleasure took its place, blissful, blinding pleasure. She gasped when his palms rolled over her nippled a second time, then groaned when he took each tender peak between his thumb and forefinger, playing with them till they burned and throbbed with the sweetest ache she had ever known. But it wasn't only her breast which burned and ached. Her whole body was swiftly becoming a furnace of frantic fire.

"Hoseok," she whispered in pleading tones.

"Yes?"

"Please don't stop..."

"I won't," he rasped, his mouth moving restlessly over her neck, kissing and sucking at her heated skin. Hyeonji shivered violently. "I mean later. Don't stop for anything."

His hands froze on her breasts. His mouth lifted. "Are you sure?" He asks as Hyeonji nods her head.

"What about pregnancy?"

Hyeonji was taken aback. She'd actually been thinking of her pain stopping him. Now she realized what he was referring to, and shrank from the concept of him putting anything between them. She might only have this night with him and she wanted everything to be perfect. "There's no danger of that," she reassured him hurriedly, desperate to have his hands and mouth back on her flesh once more. "My period is due this week and I'm never late."

"You haven't asked me if I'm any danger to you..." says Hoseok. Again that thought had not occured to her. "Are you?" She asked, shaken.

"No."

She shivered her relief. "Then everythings all right then."

He spun her abruptly in his arms and cupped her face. "Promise me you won't trust any other man like that." He demanded. "You have no idea the lies some creeps will tell you not to use a condom."

The realization that he was already anticipating her sleeping with other men after him dismayed Hyeonji. Silly she thought. What had she expected. That he would discover how much he secretly loved her tonight? What a romantic fool she was.

"Don't worry about what I do with other men, Hoseok." She said sharply.

"But I do. You're my friend and I care about you."

"Really? You yourself said tonight this had nothing to do with friendship." She stepped back and hastily stripped her pantyhose and shoes, scooping the bundle of clothes to one side and straightening to stabd naked in front of him. Her chin lifted defiantly her hazel brown eyes glittering as she pulled the swinging earrings from her lobes one by one and tossed them on top of her green silk dress. "You were right. This has nothing to do with friendship, Hobi. Nothing at all!"

Too much passion in her voice she realized. But too late.

Hoseok frowned. Then frowned some more, "And what has it to do with, Hyeonji?" He asked slowly, his eyes searching hers all the while. "I sure hell hope Jungkook wasn't right."

"Jungkook? What has Jungkook got to do with this?" Slowly getting irritated by Hoseok.

"Nothing, obviously. But he seemed to think your feelings for me encompassed more than friendship. He said he was watching you while I made my speech tonight and he reckoned you were in love with me. He warned me not to fuck you since virgins in love were notoriously vulnerable. I didn't believe him that time. I thought Jungkook was just making trouble. But now I'm beginning to wonder."

Hyeonji knew she had to act quickly or all would be lost. She hoped her laughter had just the right mixture of disbelief and dry amusement. "In love with you, as well as my Mr X? I'm not that much of a masochist. But you have grown into a very attractive man Hobi," she said, undulating towards him with a sexy smile curving her mouth. "And your experience with women is impressive. Why do you think i chose you for this exercise? No, Hobi, I don't want your love tonight. I just want your body." She pressed her palms against his naked chest and kissed the base of his throat, then slowly lifted her eyes back to his.

Was he angry with her? Or angry with himself? Whatever, his brown eyes were blazing with something. He gripped her elbows and lifted her bodily off the carpet, carrying her over and tossing her back onto the bed. She lay sprawled there in breathless silence, watching dry-mouthed as he proceeded to strip himself with rough, angry movements. The sight of the unknown was worrisome as she feared. No doubt about it. This was going to hurt. She only hoped he remembered his promise not to stop. For anything.

Chapter 12

Masterlist